


Blame the laundry

by Alyeen1, mindless_indulgence



Category: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-03-23 14:57:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13790112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyeen1/pseuds/Alyeen1, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindless_indulgence/pseuds/mindless_indulgence
Summary: Naked Hawkeye trying to kill Dr. Horrible with a towel. Then kinky stuff happens.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alyeen1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyeen1/gifts), [MRei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MRei/gifts).



> This started as a Twitter conversation with @njgirl0976, @Reille78 and @blacksmything I couldn’t even summarize if I were sober.  
> Anyway, the plot is Hawkeye and Dr. Horrible going at it in a laundromat. Hawkeye isn’t married in this scenario. Also, as a reference to the comics, his hearing isn’t the best.

Hawkeye sighed, looked around, found the laundromat empty, and started undressing.

He had no one to blame but himself. He always delayed doing his laundry until he had literally nothing clean to wear. And at times, he went through his whole wardrobe within a week, especially when he fought stuff that tended to burst into an explosion of goo.  
Not that blood was any better.  
Hawkeye missed the times when he just could put his gear into the Avengers Tower laundry, but since he took Caps side, he figured that it would be inappropriate to ask Tony if he could use his housekeeping service. 

At least this laundromat chain met the demands of superheroes _[and probably some aspiring supervillains too]_ , and had installed washing machines that cleaned out blood, gore and acid out of leather, spandex, Kevlar and polymers. 

Wrapped in boots and his last good towel _[purple, with a black bullseye embroidered. A birthday gift from Natasha.]_ , Hawkeye closed the lid and started the program.  
He had a few hours to kill, but considering it was 2am on a Wednesday night, he didn’t expect any company, and had brought a book. 

Preoccupied with it, he didn’t notice the door opening, and another man entering the laundromat. The man didn’t notice him as well, as he went to another washing machine, and proceeded in a similar way as Hawkeye earlier, shedding his white lab coat and thick gloves. When he closed the lid, the bang woke a dozing Hawkeye, and startled him with a surprised yelp, which made the man shriek again. 

Turning around, the two mostly-naked men faced each other. Hawkeye saw a tall, wiry, disturbingly attractive blond man wearing nothing but silver boots, white boxer briefs and goggles on his head. Dr Horrible, or rather, Billy, because it felt stupid to call yourself by your villain identity when you’re in your underwear, saw a sturdy, square-jawed man, a few inches shorter than him, in a purple towel, with several bruises covering his upper body. 

For several minutes, they just stared at each other. 

“Well, this is awkward.” 

Dr Horrible nodded. 

“I, uhm, I didn’t expect someone else to do their laundry at this time of day. Or, uhm, night. On a work day. I mean, night.” 

“Well, I suppose people like us don’t have regular working hours.” 

Another awkward pause. 

“So … you’re a sniper?” 

Dr Horrible made a gesture towards the bow and quiver, leaning against the bench Hawkeye has been sitting on. 

“Archer. And you’re a, huh, scientist?” 

Hawkeye pointed at the goggles. 

“Doctor. I have a PhD in Horribleness –“  
Dr Horrible closed his mouth shut. It was probably a bad idea to casually admit that, but the way the other man’s towel gaped open at his thigh was highly distracting. 

“Doctor … Horrible? From the Evil League of Evil??” 

Dr Horrible nodded, trying not to think of the Newspaper headline announcing his death by arrow, wearing nothing but his underwear, in a laundromat. 

“Well I guess we should call it a truce, considering we’re on neutral ground, and basically naked.”  
The man stepped forward, holding out his right hand, while holding up his towel with the left one.  
“Hawkeye.” 

Wearily, Dr Horrible shook it.  
“From The Avengers?” 

"Yeah, well, that’s under consideration at the moment. And the E.L.E. wasn’t really on my to-do-list anyway. Your Captain Hammer isn’t one you’d be happy to do a favor.” 

Dr Horrible rolled his eyes.  
“Corporate tool.” 

Hawkeye snorted a laugh.  
“Yeah, that fits.”  
He made a gesture for Dr Horrible to have a seat.  
Dr Horrible grabbed his bag and sat down. 

“Would you like a frozen yoghurt? They gave me two at the 24h Dairy Queen because I fixed their cooling unit.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

Billy’s hand brushed over Hawkeye’s as he handed him the cup, and Hawkeye dropped it onto his lap. 

“Oh shit, man, I’m sorry!” 

Yelping, Dr Horrible jumped on his feet, desperately trying to get the frozen stuff off his junk. 

“Fucking – balls – of course you got a perfect aim! Not that it will help you in the long run with your stupid stone age weaponry!” 

Hawkeye, who had gone up to help, somehow, froze. 

_”What?!?”_

Still trying to wipe off the molten yoghurt, Dr Horrible ranted  
“Oh please, do you really think in the atomic age with aliens attacking and scientists exploring actual _magic_ these days, you’re actually making any difference with a fricking _bow_???” 

Humiliation, anger, sleep deprivation and general pissed-off-ness by people with PhDs, Hawkeye launched himself at the other man.  
Stone age my sweet ass, he could kick this Brainiac’s butt 7 ways to Sunday! 

It was a good thing neither The Avengers, The Secret Avengers, The Evil League of Evil or really any other person on this world witnessed how Hawkeye, buck-naked, chased Dr. Horrible in cold, wet underwear through a laundromat, trying to strangle him with a purple towel. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Listen Dude I am - _ow!_ sorry that I hit a nerve or something _ow!_ but don’t you think this is _OWWW!!_ equally embarrassing for both of us?!”

At what felt like the 100th lap through the spatial very limited laundromat, Dr. Horrible felt like this guy wouldn’t get bored of slapping him after a few minutes like Captain Hammer usually did. 

He also seemed fitter than Captain Hammer. 

And definitely well endowed. 

It’s weird what you notice about the upset naked guy who was chasing you around a laundromat at 3 am on a Wednesday. 

Hawkeye, pissed off and determined, didn’t dignified this with an answer.  
But, as these things go, he tripped over a lemon someone must’ve lost out of their shopping bag, plunged forward and came to halt on top of the terrified doctor. 

Still slapping his towel, he heard himself yelling 

“Listen, Dr. Asshole, I am fighting alongside _motherfucking_ GODS, genius billionaire playboys, living war legends with muscles a human body shouldn’t have and _whatever the hell Vision is_ , with a **fucking bow and arrows** , and I don’t need a smart-ass, second-rate wannabe-villain to tell me how ridiculous this is!!!” 

Dr. Horrible has never been more grateful to have worked the Freeze-Ray into a smartwatch © as he was now.  
When Hawkeye froze on top of him, he used the few seconds the miniaturized device provided him to ramble 

“Okay I am really _really_ sorry that I said this, and apparently hit a sore spot, but it’s really tough for someone like me to keep up a reputation, if you know what I mean, in front of someone as fit and buff as you are, and playing for the other team, I mean, for the Hero team, not that it’s any of my business what team you’re playing for, it’s just, you’re shredded, and I respect that – “ 

In this moment, the Freeze-Ray conked out, forcing a very confused Hawkeye to topple over, shaking and shivering. 

There was silence for a very long moment. 

“What do you mean, ‘for someone like you’? This gadget would’ve made Tony proud.”  
He panted into Dr. Horrible’s neck.  
Who was totally out of words. 

Particularly because parts of him reacted to the very close proximity of said well endowed, buff archer. 

Who, particularly, reacted back. 

“Uhm… Doctor?” 

“Yeah?” 

“How long till I can move again?” 

“Uhm, about 5 minutes, more or less.” 

“Well, could you, you know, push me off from you?” 

They were still not looking at each other. 

Shell-shocked, Dr. Horrible tried to do as he’s been told, but, because it’s been _really too damn long_ , he mostly managed to lift his hips up.  
Which made both men groan. 

“Okay, this is awkward.” 

“I think we passed ‘awkward’ 20 minutes ago.” 

Silence again. 

“What did you mean by ‘playing for the other team’, really?!” 

Dr. Horrible, while not having a lot of blood available in his brain, managed an eyeroll. 

“Oh _please_ , as if there ever could be _a gay Avenger_ -“ 

Everything left to say was cut off by a horny, exasperated, rash Avenger who was, thank you very much, indeed very gay. 

Who really just cognitively realized he was sitting buck-naked on top of a cute, blond, mouthy dude who was wearing nothing but his underwear. 

It wasn’t as much of a kiss as it was an angry clash of mouth and teeth, with tons of general, but especial, sexual frustration behind it.  
Sleep deprivation, annoyance and hormones turned two really smart and skilled supermen into randy teenagers.  
For the next 3 minutes, plus or minus, it was mostly Dr. Horrible getting all handsy over Hawkeye, who made due by pushing as much tongue as he could manage into the other man’s mouth.  
It was a weird feeling, lying naked on top of another, very attractive, _very_ interested man, not being able to move anything but his head. 

But when Hawkeye’s synapses finally started to obey his mind again, which happened to be a few seconds after Dr. Horrible has settled his hands onto his ass to pull him closer to his groin, he made up for the lost time by groping the horrible doctor all over in no time. 

Panting, shivering, sweating, he hooked his thumbs into the last remaining piece of clothing in the room, saying 

“If you have any objections on going all the way, you better state them right now while I still have some shreds of control left inside of me!” 

As a response, Hawkeye got his neck sucked hard enough to leave evidence for the next few weeks. 

Shoving the interfering garment out of his way, Hawkeye just had enough presence of mind left to fumble the bottle of lube out of his gear, and popped open the lid. 

“You have - _pant, pant, lick, suck_ Astroglide in your quiver?” 

“Shut the fuck up, the stuff is useful for reloading too.” 

_Chuckle_  
” I bet!” 

He was interrupted by a slick, hot, hard dick pushing at his ass, impatiently demanding entry.  
Groaning, Dr. Horrible lifted his hips, too needy and totally flabbergasted by the whole fucking situation to worry about getting banged without thorough preparation. 

And _oh sweet hell_ , yes, it did hurt for a moment, when Hawkeye pushed himself into him as slow as he probably was capable of, but between the cold of the linoleum floor, the heat of their bodies, the tenderness of the kisses on his throat and the force of the grip on his hips, it was a moment of fricking perfection. 

When he was balls-deep in, Hawkeye made a sound that wasn’t human.  
Panting heavily, he clutched to Dr. Horrible’s body like a drowning person onto a piece of driftwood. 

“Did I accidentally hit you with the Freeze Ray again or why aren’t you moving?!” 

“I wanted to give you time to adjust. But I apologize for showing consideration.” 

And then he started moving, first slowly, pulling out almost completely, and then snapping his hips fast and ruthless, so hard he drove both of them several inches over the floor. 

“Oh hell, you’re so tight! How long has it been since- “ 

“Shut up and fuck me harder! No one here wants to hear about me not getting laid for over a year!”

The Doctor yanked at Hawkeye’s hair, pulling his head back just enough to let him feel some teeth on his throat.  
It had the desired effect, the archer got up on his knees to get more force behind his punishing rhythm, shoving his cock deeper inside him with every thrust. Dr. Horrible moaned, overwhelmed by the pleasure ripping through his body.  
When he tried to get some control over their coupling by gripping onto Hawkeye’s hair again, he found himself in some hold that was probably banned by every nation on earth.  
Hawkeye had him in a one-armed grip that didn’t left any kind leeway, while he rode his body like a stallion.  
With his other hand, he pulled and shoved at his thigh till it was in an odd angle, straining his muscles while allowing Hawkeye to change his position, and once he started thrusting into him again, Dr. Horrible actually saw star destroyers before his eyes. 

Hell, this man knew how to aim! 

And then, just like that, it was all too much, and Dr. Horrible came in hot, almost painful spurts, unable to move and begging for mercy, whimpering and moaning till the last wave of his orgasm washed over his body in blissful satisfaction. 

Still being held in the death grip of the not straight as an arrow archer, he could only watch mesmerized as Hawkeye rode him hard, fast, demanding, until his eyes rolled back, he gasped and cursed under his breath, and pumped his cum deed inside of his body. 

Shuddering with the aftershocks of their climaxes, both men remained silent, still entwined in each other’s body, but unable to look each other in the eye. 

“Uhm… Billy.” 

Hawkeye startled. 

“What?” 

“My name is Billy.” 

He smiled against the other man’s shoulder. 

“Clint.” 

In this moment, the door of the laundromat opened.


	3. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I am quite talking out of my ass here, and out of bourbon, but I more or less dreamed of it like that, so whatev.

It was a beautiful, sunny morning, barely 6 am, but the sun already shone it’s sweet, warm light on the city.  
That was why 4 women, quite different yet admirable in shape, coloring and age, ushered quickly into a 24/7 special services laundry.  
They were in a bit of a trouble, but, as the strong, independent women they are, they were confident about the success of their recent endeavor.

As they entered the laundromat, Hawkeye, _secretly known as Clint Barton, world’s greatest marksman, grown up in a crime circus, deaf, Gemini, video game enthusiast,_ and Dr. Horrible, _aka Billy, PhD in Horribleness, keen on World Dominance, recently super-confused about his sexuality after being banged 6 ways to Sunday by aforesaid world’s greatest marksman,_ could hear their chatter.

The curvy raven hair, dressed in what seemed to be a shower curtain, just finished her sentence

“- stupid, but worth it!” 

A petite woman in pink Tweety pajamas responded

“Yes, but **you** can come up with an explanation for me to tell the hot dude with the triskel tattoo why we had to take his boots, clothes, and motorcycle!” 

A tall blonde almost tripped over following them, as she both carried a heavy bag and piggy-backed a beautiful brunette without shoes.

“Dis guy totally had the hots for ya, s’long as ya call him, he’ll be happy as craps ‘nyway!” 

“Happy as clams, you surely mean?”

Gracefully, the brunette slipped off her back, and shoved the contents of the bag into a washing machine, hitting the **Destroy EvidenceTM** program and inserted the required four-digit price into the machine with casino chips. 

“ _hicks_ Yeah, some kind of seafood, whatev. ‘S not like any of **you** ladies volunteered for a vodka drink-off with the butcher of Kiev!” 

“I am pretty sure no one of us would have _survived_ a vodka drink-off with the pastry chef of Kiev, and we are all proud of you, but we wouldn’t have to be here, if you would’ve taken them up on their offer to get rid of the b-“ 

“ _After_ I bet him fare and square, he dared to offer this? I would’ve looked _weak_ in front of all the Yakuza if I’d accepted it!” 

Barefeed Brunette pulled the blonde one easily down onto the chair next to her and petted her head as she instantly fell asleep on her lap.

“Don’t mind her, the Slavic pride always barges through when she’s past the 0.4 BAC.” 

Shower Curtain responded

“Oh I am just beyond grateful for everything you did for me! Cupcake, do you think the machine will get the blood out of the blouse? It’s my favorite.” 

Tweety Pajamas checked the instructions.

“ _With purchasing the **Destroy EvidenceTM** option, your laundry will be cleared of all natural, unnatural, supernatural and outernatural substances, as long as it didn’t contained the fabrics more than 43 hours ago. With **Destroy EvidenceTM** technology, the condition of your laundry will be guaranteed to remain in prime state. If you have any complaints about **Destroy EvidenceTM** not clearing your laundry in prime condition, please call – 0800431984300-…_ I am pretty sure your blouse will come out of this prettier than certain other components of your life, A!” 

Shower Curtain sat down next to Unconscious Blonde and Barefeed Brunette.

“By the way, what do _your_ husbands think you’re doing this week?” 

“Mine thinks I am having a hen night with you girls in Vegas, and I am pretty sure that whatever The Indestructible Liver here told her husband, it’s worse than what we actual did the last days.” 

“But you two had –“ 

At this moment, both Hawkeye’s and Dr. Horrible’s laundry decided to be done, and started beeping quite loudly.

The women startled, and Billy and Clint reluctantly came out of their hiding spot, barely decent behind one towel. 

“Uhm, you ladies would be O.K. with us just grabbing our laundry and never speak about this day again?” 

Tweety Pajamas grinned.

“Oh, this is SO going into my blog!”


End file.
